This thing is in my bones
like spunk and marrow.
It’s all I know and trust, like myself in the world.
Even when I’m naked it’s covering my skin at all times
like invisible winter clothing
and only powers down when I’m alone.
Even then, it’s charging with one eye open
like a German Shepherd sleeping at the foot of my bed,
waiting for someone to dare intrude.
Since I can’t walk around with a sword,
this shield is what gives me the illusion of safety
others enjoy while dreaming or being naïve.
I don’t have to push buttons or wait to be triggered,
it’s intuitive and works 24/7 like a protective reflex.
Picking up on the smallest amount of interest,
my face immediately broadcasts a message of indifference
and I can respond to every question with a closed answer,
no matter what you come up with.
I am a wall within a wall.

But something’s changed,
there’s a knocking at my fort
I could only ignore so long
before it stirred me from sleep and drove me to action.
I climb to the top and peek over the ledge to find a raven haired woman
beating her fists on my home as if she’s been locked out of her own.
Swinging at concrete as though it were wood
with her long arms and lean muscles,
I can’t help but smile and find myself amused.
So, I fold my arms and sit for a moment before calling out to her.
“Can I help you?”
She drops her arms and looks up at me with pale eyes and her mouth dropped.
“Let me in!” she yells.
“What?! No!” I scoff.
“I’m coming in, whether you like it or not.”
I look at the size of her and then the wall and just laugh.
She stomps away and says that she will be back,
but I don’t believe her.

A month or two passes,
before I am again disturbed, this time
by a much louder knocking at my fort.
Sure enough, she had returned with a smile and a sledgehammer.
She was small in stature, but wild by nature
and she swung with all the force of her little body
until the wall shook.
I am no longer amused.
“Hey! Stop that!” I shout until my voice breaks.
But she just smiles wider then keeps going.

She gets tired and drops her weapon for awhile to sit.
I let out a sigh of relief thinking that she’s quit.
But then she gets back up and pulls a chisel and mallet
from the back of her jeans.
She’s found a soft spot and means to take full advantage.
I jump down and try to reason with her through a fissure she’s made.
“Whoa, wait, can’t we talk about this?”
“What’s there to talk about, I’m coming in.”

Now it’s coming apart faster than I can rebuild
and I’m beginning to question its use.
As the pieces fall around me I get to thinking,
She is a pretty thing….
and perhaps some company would not be the death of me
but simply another way of living.

I tell her to stand back as I kick out a section of brick,
and pull her into me._________________shemovesme.wordpress.com

Mon Nov 21, 2011 11:51 am

MysteryGirlModerators

Joined: 02 Jun 2007
Posts: 3418
Location: I come from a land downunder

OMG Brach, you're back. And with one hell of a piece of story telling! Fantastic imagery. I found myself alarmed for the one hiding behind the wall but cheering on the sassy intruder.